Why?

You might ask, “Why do I help the Vaquita?”

And my answer is, “Why wouldn’t I?”

I cannot force myself to think of a world without Vaquita.

They have helped shape much of my young life, from the early online research to now.

They have inspired me to do things I never thought were possible—or had the courage to do.

They have given me the confidence to stand up and make a difference in this dying world.

They have presented me with endless ideas for poems, books, and artwork.

They have saved me with the knowledge that I am saving them, and they still have a chance.

The Vaquita has given me so much, and now it is my turn to give back to them.

I know the day the Vaquita dies will make me want to do the same.

It is this fear of loss that has pushed me for years to make a change.

And you may ask, “Why save the Vaquita?”

And my answer will always be, “Why not?”

Like a web

Like a web,

the net

devoured my soul.

With invisible hands,

the net

gouged my body.

Like a whirlpool,

the net

sucked me in;

stabbing me with knives,

wrapping me up.

I rolled to escape

the net,

but it was no use.

The net

tightened,

suffocating me.

The net

stopped my heart.

She was beautiful

Sun made its way

to her back,

Casting a morphing shadow

on the powdery sand.

Bubbles slipped out of her lungs,

dancing to the swirling surface.

She rose up

toward the beckoning sun.

Her blowhole inhaled

the salty air,

Refilling her lungs

like a balloon.

She noticed a ship

in the distance.

Binoculars and cameras faced her,

flashing.

She floated in glory,

admired by the many people.

She was beautiful.

Lifeless

The boat rocked with every rolling current

As I slowly fed my net into the swirling aqua sea.

I watched as the floats drifted off,

Knowing the next time I would touch them,

I would be hauling hundreds of shrimp onto this deck.

I leaned against the cabin window,

Arms crossed.

I thought of my beautiful family:

My wife and son.

This was for them.

A large mob of gulls swarmed around the boat:

There must have been something in the water.

Spitting tobacco overboard, I began to pull in the net.

Inch by inch,

Foot by foot.

It was too late.

She was already gone.

A dead Vaquita lay mangled in the mesh,

Lifeless and dripping in blood from the lacerations.

I sat down on the deck and began to cry.

Bears, fish, and a porpoise

In bamboo forests Pandas dwell.

They’re shy and hidden, but we know them well.

Anglerfish live undersea in glory.

They’re rarely seen, but strangely, same story.

Why don’t people know about the Vaquita?

Because few of us have gotten to meet ‘er.

The fact is, though, we’ll never get to see one

Unless we immediately start to save ’em.

Let’s not wait another night:

Click the link to Cetos, on the right.→

Ghost

A vision, a ghost.

The Vaquita is hidden,

Never to be found.

Or is that silver fog that

Frequents the water’s surface

A lone Vaquita?

Surely it cannot be so.

For years ago we

Wiped the species from the Earth.

But now it is too late. Or is it?